Beneath This Ink (Beneath #2)(52)

“Baby, wake up.”

I’d expected her to stay in the dream for at least another moment or two. I certainly didn’t expect her to shoot straight up in bed, trying to knock my arm aside and scramble away from me.

“Whoa, honey. Calm down. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Her lungs heaved, and I worried for a moment whether she’d hyperventilate. “Shh. Shh. It’s okay. No one can hurt you here.”

Instead of continuing to struggle, she turned and buried her face in my neck. I wrapped both arms around her and stroked her wild mane of hair. Hot tears spilled onto my bare chest.

For several minutes, I just held her. I let myself get comfortable being her rock, her protection from all the bad things in the world.

The thought was sobering. Because in Vanessa Frost’s world, I also qualified as a bad thing.

I pulled her away from my chest and met her vivid blue eyes, shining with the remains of her tears.

This was where a better man would make sure she was okay and then take her home and let her get on with her life. Without him.

And I still wasn’t a better man.

She stared up at me, looking lost and scared. Last night, she’d wanted sex to feel alive. That wasn’t a tough concept to grasp. I couldn’t say how many times I’d hopped off a chopper or rolled back into base after a mission where the bullets had flown too f*cking close for comfort and found oblivion by burying myself in a willing woman’s *. Might’ve gotten me busted down in rank if we’d ever been found out, but the need was too strong to deny, regardless of the consequences.

And right now, Vanessa’s wide blue eyes were too tempting. I opened my mouth to say something—anything—that would win me another hour with her, but she beat me to it. Except she didn’t speak, just reached up, dug her fingers into my hair, and yanked my head down.

Her lips collided with mine. She was a woman on a mission, and I wasn’t stopping her. The kiss went on for long minutes, until I let my elbows collapse, and we fell back onto the bed, Vanessa sprawled over my chest.

Untangling her hands from my hair and pulling her lips away from mine, she propped herself up. Gone were the shining eyes, and so was the expression I expected to see.

Instead, she looked horrified. The lightning fast change from aggressor to… whatever this was… practically gave me whiplash.

She shoved away from me and scrambled off the bed.

“What the hell am I doing?” she asked the empty room, her back toward me. She ran both hands through her hair and repeated, “What the hell am I doing?”

While I knew the question was rhetorical, it didn’t stop me from answering. “Taking something you want.”

She spun. Dressed in only one of my T-shirts, her long legs were mostly bare. I couldn’t help but remember how they’d been entwined with mine while we’d slept—and how right that had felt.

“Like what I want matters.” She scanned the room, most likely for the sweatpants I’d offered her when we’d finally made it to bed early this morning.

“Why shouldn’t it matter?” I asked.

“It just doesn’t.” Spotting the sweatpants on the edge of the tall bureau, she snatched them up and jammed one leg and then the other into them. “I need to call a cab. I have to call my father too.”

That last bit gave me pause. “You didn’t call him last night? Before I got to the hospital?” I’d just assumed she had. Hadn’t even thought to ask.

“No. I was a little… preoccupied.”

“Shit. He’s going to raise hell. The police. Your car…”

“I know. Which is why I need go. He’s going to be furious I didn’t call him last night so he could make sure my name stayed out of the paper.”

“Might not be too late.” I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and found Hennessy’s contact. It rang twice before he answered.

“The f*ck you want, Leahy? You know what time it is?”

“You already turn your report in?”

“Yeah, after you made it pretty f*cking clear I wasn’t needed at the hospital any more.”

“Shit.”

“What’s your deal?”

“Is there any way to keep her name out of the press?” I asked, not needing to elaborate on whose name I meant.

“I sure ain’t changing my report to keep her name out of it. Then I wouldn’t be doing my damn job. And I know you’re not asking me to do that.”

A dead man couldn’t miss the sarcasm in my tone. “Of course not. I’d never dream of asking you to look the other way.”

“But I doubt anyone’s seen the report yet. I’ll call my lieutenant and ask him to see what he can do to keep it quiet. Given your girl’s name, I imagine that request will go all the way up to the Superintendent, and he’ll be happy to comply. At least as far as I know, he ain’t no fool.”

I didn’t argue his ‘your girl’ comment, even though I knew I should. “Thanks, man.”

“You owe me.”

“Always seem to.”

I hung up. “Hennessy is going to try to keep your name out of it. No guarantees, but it’s the best I can do.”

Her eyes assessing, she asked, “Why are you on such close terms with the cop?”